Dobby's Deceit

by La Morraine

What if Dobby bound himself to Harry without Harry knowing about it? How would that influence the story? [Harry/Hermione]

13. Chapter 13

Dobby's Deceit

Part 13

The morning after Hermione's birthday party began with a huge headache.

"Weasley! Why are there scratch marks on my trunk lock!" Dean hollered. "You tried to get in, didn't you!"

"I did not!" Ron hollered back. He grabbed his clothes and stomped off to the showers.

"He did," Harry said with a frown. "I mean, I didn't see him at your trunk yesterday, but he was definitely trying to break into Neville's. With his wand and a butter knife."

"And you didn't say anything?" Dean demanded. "Harry!"

"I tried, but you, er, were a little drunk at bed time."

Dean had the grace to blush and groan. "Right. Sorry"

Seamus patted Dean's shoulder. "For the record, Hagrid's moonshine is the devil, and we'll never drink it again. I think even the Weasley twins won't drink it again - they got detention with Sinistra of all people, and she's the coolest teacher at Hogwarts."

"Thank god for hangover cure, and thank Corner for selling me one," Dean sighed. "I'm really pissed about my trunk."

"I already complained to Professor McGonagall," Neville, fresh out of the shower, told them. "You should, too, and ask Colin to give you a picture of your trunk. I, er, had him take one last night of all of our trunks, as proof."

"Oh, I will. Weasley's gone too far now," Dean grunted. "If that's not getting him expelled, we'll have to throw him off the Astronomy Tower ourselves."

"Agreed," Seamus said. "Thanks for looking out for us, Neville."

They got ready and left the dorm room together. Hermione was already sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace in the common room and clearly waiting for Harry. Crookshanks was draped like a huge, orange fur blanket over her legs, purring lazily and kneading the air with his big paws.

"Morning, Hermione," Dean greeted her. "Great party last night, even with the professors there. Thanks for inviting us."

"You're welcome," she replied, eyebrows arched a little. "Although I thought that the professors gave the whole thing a little bit of class."

"Only a little bit," Seamus said ruefully, rubbing his forehead. "I'm sorry to say we still got drunk like a skunk. Me mum would kill me if she knew."

Smirking, Hermione encouraged Crookshanks to get off her lap. "I'm sure Professor McGonagall decided to let that be a lesson to you. And no, there's no hangover potion left. Corner sold them all last night."

"We already had one, each," Dean laughed and then groaned. "Hagrid's moonshine is just that strong."

The group made their way to breakfast, where Hermione threw a small hissy fit when she heard about Ron's attempt to break into all the boys' trunks. Afterwards, she made them write a complaint each and sent them off with a Hogwarts elf.

"Couldn't we have waited until at least lunch or something?" Seamus moaned. "McGonagall won't be able to read my letter right now, anyway."

"The longer you wait, the more Ronald gets a chance to cry victim first," she retorted, topping up everyone's tea cups. Harry thought that ignoring Ron's hateful glare at the comment had to be yet another of Hermione's many secret super powers. "Drink this, you'll need your wits about you. Hagrid might have something ... energetic for us."

Hagrid did, indeed, have something interesting for the class, but this time the students were actually interested and even curious.

"Come closer, yeh all," the man called and waved them over with his large hands. "See these lizard looking things? They're mokes, native to the British isles. Who of yeh has seen one before?"

Only Malfoy answered, and he sounded gleeful as he said, "I do every day, when I look at my money pouch." He pushed away his cloak and showed everyone the pretty green pouch at his hip.

Hagrid gave a terse nod. "One point fer Slytherin. Moke skin is indeed very useful fer bags, especially money bags, because it can expand to ten times its actual size. I meant live ones, though. Someone? Anyone? No?"

Hermione raised her hand. "I read that they can change their size at will, and show themselves but rarely to humans."

"Right! One point fer Gryffindor!" Hagrid beamed and ushered one of the lizards onto his hand. "This lil' fellow and his friends are from the Forbidden Forest. They agreed ter let yer study them, so be nice. They have mighty sharp teeth and will punish yeh fer being mean." He stared at Malfoy. "Jus' so we're clear, Malfoy. Yer father had ter sign a waiver ter keep yeh in my class. One more stupid stunt and yer failing out."

"What?" Malfoy flushed angrily. "That's prepesterous!"

"And no less than you deserve," Hermione said. She bravely stepped up to Hagrid. "May I please have a moke, Hagrid?"

"Certainly. Here ... he doesn't weigh much. Just keep him calm and warm and he'll be happy. Some even like ter be petted. Just ask before yeh try, alright?"

The moke happily climbed along Hermione's arm and snuggled partway under her hair.

"Aw, he likes you," Harry teased. He nodded at the small lizard. "Nice to meet you, moke."

The lizard opened its mouth and a strange hiss came out.

"Wait, what?" Harry asked, perplexed. "Your name is Carl?"

Seamus, Dean, and Neville all stared at Harry.

"You can understand him?" Neville asked hesitantly.

"Very badly," Harry admitted. "I didn't know I even could, to be honest." He concentrated and then hissed, "Is your name really Carl? I'm Harry."

"Har-ree?"

Harry laughed. "Harry."

The moke stared at Harry and hissed again, clearly more slowly now. "Mien naam is Ka-re-li."

"Okay, I think his name is actually Kareli," Harry told the others. "It's like another language, but one that's sort of close. Like maybe Low German?"

"You know Low German?" Seamus asked. He eyed the moke as it gamely climbed from Hermione to Harry. "Why?"

"I know of it," Harry admitted. "I saw a TV show once, where someone spoke it. Some things were really similar, just enough to sort of get the gist." He turned back to the lizard. "How about a back rub? Like so?" He mimicked stroking the creature's back.

"Ja, Har-ri." The moke pressed its head against Harry's palm and hissed some nonsense when the stroking began. "Leep good."

Of course, Malfoy couldn't give anything a rest. "Professor! Potter can speak with his lizard! That's an unfair advantage!"

Hagrid turned from Lavender, both eyebrows raised. "That true, Harry? Yeh understand the lil' fellow?"

"Er, mostly," Harry admitted. "Why?"

"Oh, nuthin'. Just interested how he finds the forest, an' whether he and his clan need something before the winter comes."

Harry tried to convey the question and listened intently to the answer. "Well, I think he says that they're fine, but that they'd like a few, er, mahltieds to help them over the coldest snaps. Something about fewer insects and mice this year."

"Ah, yes. Tell him I'll remember ter bring them something around in November."

"He'll bring some food in two months."

"Twee maanten?" the moke countered, cocking its head.

"Er, ja? Twee." Harry helplessly pointed to the sky where a waxing moon was faintly visible. "Maant."

"Twee maand." The moke actually nodded, very obviously imitating Harry's mannerisms. "Good. Ik dank di."

"He says that's fine," Harry said. "And thanks, I guess."

Hagrid was nearly glowing. "Well done. Thank yeh, Harry. Er, I probably can't give yeh points fer knowing the language, because that's a magical gift, but have five points fer being willing ter translate."

Malfoy huffed, but the rest of the class was fascinated with Harry's suddenly not so scary parselmouth abilities and presented their mokes to him to learn their names.

In the end, every moke had been talked to and petted and even fed, and an energetic group of students trooped back to the castle for their next class.

"You don't always have to stick out, you know," Ron told Harry. "So what if you can understand lizards?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Hermione muttered.

"You put him up to this, didn't you?" Ron continued, rounding on her. "He's not good enough for you when he's just being Harry, is he? He has to be special."

"He does not, but he is," Hermione said, exasperated. "And I'm not talking about Voldemort, either. Harry's smart, and he wants to make something of himself, Ronald. I don't see what's wrong with encouraging that in him. Not everybody can be as lazy as you!"

"Well, maybe they can," Dean supplied, "but they don't want to."

Neville glowered at Ron. "We've had enough of you. If you can't be civil, maybe you shouldn't talk to us at all."

"I wasn't talking to you, Longbottom," Ron said haughtily. "I'm talking to Harry. Mate, you know that girls have funny ideas about things. I even get how you could listen to that, what with having been raised by muggles and stuff. It's just not how things are done in our world, see."

"I don't even want to know what you mean by that," Hermione said crossly. "I'm going to talk to Professor McGonagall. I've had enough of this utter nonsense."

"I'll come with you," Neville said, and together they slogged up the hill and vanished in the castle, leaving the others to fend for themselves.

"Now you've done it, Weasley," Dean said. "I have no idea what McGonagall will come up with, but you deserve every little bit of it. And now excuse me, because unlike you, we'd actually like to attend classes."

All Harry could do was shake his head at his former best friend and follow the other boys, because words failed him. There was something wrong with the way Ron was acting, and it ate at him that he couldn't just believe that this was Ron's natural behaviour.

I'll end the spells on him today, and when the snakelings are back, I'll ask them for help, he decided. Maybe Blue can see more than he told me so far. And I'll talk to Professor McGonagall about it ... again.

With that, he had to be satisfied, and he did his best to go through his classes with the attention they deserved.

oOo

"Okay, there he is ... with cake in both hands," Hermione whispered, a disgusted frown on her face. "If you want to cast the Finite at him, do it now."

"I know, but first ..." Harry muttered the revealing charm, relieved when the spells around Ron lighted up at once. "Oh man, the magic looks ragged. He's working through the spells fast. Not that we didn't know that already, the way he behaved yesterday and today."

"You mean he's really throwing the spells off?" Hermione was visibly upset. "But, how? He's just a boy, and Dumbledore is a very strong wizard."

"I know, it doesn't make sense." Harry girded his loins, raised his wand and hissed, "Finite Incantatem!" at Ron's back.

Like before, all of the lights went out at once, leaving Ron clear of outside influences.

"Okay, let's skedaddle," Hermione said. "I'd rather not be in his way when he's like this."

They went the rest of the way to the library and set up their things at a quiet table in the back. Both Professor Babbling and Vector had given them new homework, an essay and a project to work on during the next four weeks, and Harry was eager to sink his teeth into the challenge.

"I found the mention of ritual magic terribly exciting," Hermione said as she opened her book. "Too bad that Hogwarts won't teach us very much about that."

"But she said that the fifth years and up can earn extra credit," Harry reminded her. "Which we'll both probably do."

"Only probably? You started sketching a ritual circle the minute she mentioned it." Hermione grinned. "Admit it, you've read about it during the summer. We can try some easy things out in the Come and Go Room."

"I wanted to tell you," Harry admitted. "There just wasn't any time."

"Don't I know it." Hermione looked around and then scooted right next to Harry. In a whisper, she said, "You remember that I initially wanted to take every class here?"

"Yeah, that was a bit barmy."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, I was ... motivated. Professor McGonagall lobbied with the appropriate department in the Ministry to make it happen ... they'd have given me a device that allows people to travel back in time. Only for a few hours at a time, but, well."

Harry stared at her. "They what?"

"I know!" Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. "It's utterly irresponsible to let a thirteen year old child have a time-turner, but nevermind. Concentrate on the fact that such a thing even exists!"

"If we could turn back time ..." Harry was still goggling at her. "We could study longer."

Hermione nodded. "In theory. However, I've thought about it and noticed that this way of thinking is kind of fatal. Doing so much more would really, really stress the body out."

"Then we could also use it to sleep more." Harry shrugged. "Seems logical."

"The human body doesn't work that way," Hermione said. "Especially for children. Look, if we could get our hands on a time-turner, the most responsible way to use it would be to create more free time. For sleep, for rest, for play, whatever helps to decompress from work. My parents were really serious about kids needing time to just absorb things and allow the body to do its growing."

"So ..."

"So we'd study during the day, use the hours we naturally have for work, and then add a few more hours for more sleep and resting periods." Hermione took out a roll of blank parchment and began to write on it. "A day has twenty-four hours. Ideally, we spend nine to ten of them sleeping - which seems absurd with the amount of classes and homework we have - and are awake for fourteen hours. On a normal day, we get up at eight, eat breakfast and then go to class until half five. Bedtime is around ten, at the latest. For a normal student that might be enough, but we have the Patronus Club and dinner, which takes away two hours of the five we have after classes end. And then there's all of the extra work we want to do, like in the Come and Go Room and the Chamber of Secrets. Most evenings, I wish I could stay up longer to earn the extra credits the professors offer, and I also want to spend time with you, which honestly is the most relaxing thing I can imagine doing."

"Don't forget the new spells we need to learn on the fly to keep an eye on Professor McGonagall and ourselves, and Ron, and definitely occlumency to protect our minds from Dumbledore and Snape," Harry said. "Plus, I've got private business now with Gringotts, and non-human friends I want to spend time with."

"Exactly." Hermione tapped the tip of her quill onto her timeline. "Playing around with time willy-nilly would only cause problems, and probably alert people to our doings. Keeping it easy is key, and since we'd need more time for rest anyway, we should carefully choose days to make our sleeping time longer, and nothing else. You see, our bodies would age with the time that passes for it, and people who overdo it would visibly age to the casual bystander."

"You seem very sure that we'd get our hands on one," Harry said, a little suspiciously.

Hermione lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Maybe. As I said, now that I know that these things exist, how hard can it be to get our hands on one?"

"Aren't they regulated or something?" Harry asked. "I mean, if Professor McGonagall had to lobby the Ministry for one ..."

"Sure, but I thought I'd just ask Gringotts about it. Since I'd use it for more studying, essentially, I have a valid reason to request one and pay for it with the money from Hector's trust."

"What if someone notices and gives you trouble?"

Hermione snorted. "So what? The Ministry nearly issued me a time-turner, anyway, and if someone outside of Gringotts even heard about it, they'd probably just assume that I'm trying to get one for my studies. I know about them already, after all, and I'm a known nerd by now."

Harry brightened. "I like it - making the system work for you."

"I can't guarantee that it'll work, of course, but it's worth a try." Hermione briefly touched her cheek to Harry's shoulder. "Now, what do you think about Professor Babbling's challenge? I recognize the pattern of the runes, but I'm a bit confused what they're meant to do."

Harry pulled the work sheet close. "I know what you mean, but look here, Algiz is most used for protection, and she placed it at all the corners of the schematic. Same with several others. We should figure out their meanings and go from there ..."

oOo

At night, Ron was a right horror to everyone, including his own sister, who had taken a seat close to Harry and Hermione and was working on her essay for Professor Flitwick. Apparently Professor McGonagall had given Ron detention until Christmas, and his Hogsmeade privilege had been revoked for his attempted theft. It was a relief to climb into bed, draw the bed hangings shut, and silence the room with a spell.

Once he was safe from prying eyes and ears, Harry took the green journal and his biro and began to write.

September 20, 1993

Hello Brady,

How are you doing? Sirius told me that the gold snakeling asked you to feed her, so I guess she likes you a lot. Will she stay with you? I'm asking because I could maybe use Blue's help for the thing that's going on with Ron. I mean, I've cancelled the spells on him now (again), but how he acts makes my stomach hurt. I think I need to dig deeper. If Blue wants to return, I'd be glad, but I'll understand if he wants to stay with you and his siblings.

Sirius is leaving tomorrow and I feel weird about it. I want him to go and get his life back, but I also want him close. I have this warm feeling in my chest when I think of him ... could that be our bond? I read in Neville's book about family bonds a little about it.

Anyway, there's not much else to tell right now, other than that Hermione's party and my gift to her was a success. She loves her potions kit, and that she has a key to the Chamber of Secrets.

Sleep well, and tell the snakelings I miss them.

-Harry

To his surprise, there was an immediate answer.

Harry,

The snakelings miss you, too, and "Blue" told me to tell you that he'll come back, together with "Sweetie". The other brother will keep our golden girl company and accompany me when I vacate your cottage after Lord Black is gone.

What you're feeling for your godfather might indeed be your parent-child bond; you know that he blood-adopted you into his house. He feels it definitely and keeps the crystal you infused with your magic on his person at all times. Both the bond and the crystal will steady him during his time in Italy, of that I'm sure, and in case you were wondering, his return to Britain for Yule has already been set up by both Gringotts and your lawyers. The ICW is not in session from the middle of December to the middle of January, and additionally the preliminary work for your godfather's case will all take place in offices that Gringotts Rome supplies, so there's no chance of anyone apprehending him. Sirius may go wherever he likes, as long as its under Gringotts' protection.

Congratulations to successfully navigating your first gift-giving as a boyfriend! Knowing what you gave her, I'm a little worried that you have set the bar so very high for yourself, but Hermione also seems like a very sensible girl. Still, should you have any questions about it, please don't hesitate to ask. It's what I'm here for, and I know for a fact that both your godfather and Sharptooth are also very willing to help.

Sleep well, Harry, and remember to pace yourself. I have asked Blue and Sweetie to keep an eye on you, just in case your family magic keeps pushing you.

-Brady

Harry frowned a little indignantly about Healer Williams' offer of relationship advice, because Hermione was a sensible girl. Still, he appreciated the offer, especially since Ron's attitude towards the Potter family fortune was so crass, and certainly wasn't getting better.

Huffing a little, Harry closed the journal and stuffed it under his pillow.

Growing up is hard, he decided, eyelids already drooping. But being small wasn't all that great, either. I guess I'll just have to see it through.

In the next moment, he was already asleep.

oOo

On Tuesday, Harry and Hermione met in the morning for their training, but otherwise didn't linger. As the date for the Hogwarts Herald's first publication drew nearer, Hermione had to proof-read articles and coordinate with Lavender and Parvati, who were already busy type-setting the pages and double-checking everything. With a heavy heart, Harry decided to leave the Patronus Club for a bit of a breather, and thankfully Professor Lupin was very understanding and encouraged him to use the time for something fun.

"You're welcome to return whenever you think you need a refresher," Lupin said kindly. "The only thing I'd like to ask is that you find some time to talk to your year mates, should they have reasonable questions."

"I can do that, sir," Harry promised. He shot Ron a look. "As long as they don't want my memory."

"Oh, I'll certainly remind them not to ask," the professor assured him. "Now run along and make the best of your free time, Harry."

"Thank you, sir."

Harry trotted off to Gryffindor Tower and threw himself in his bed with a deep sigh. Toeing off his shoes, he curled up and nodded off in a matter of minutes. He would have slept through dinner, if two tiny, licking tongues hadn't woken him.

"Hey," Harry murmured, sleepily petting Blue's dark grey scales and Sweetie's leathery egg shell. "You're already back?"

"We were gone too long," Sweetie told him. "Harry is tired. Soul friend too busy for father."

"What?" Harry stilled and focused on her. "Are you talking about Sirius?"

"Father needs much love," she explained. "Makes Harry tired."

"Oh." Slowly, Harry sat up. "I can't just take my Patronus away, if Sirius needs him."

"Harry is doing too much," Blue hissed. "Soul friend not needs to be so brilliant. Harry call him back and send again."

Harry chewed on his bottom lip and finally took his family wand. As he was already thinking of Sirius, and by extension family, it was easy to call up the necessary emotion. "Expecto Patronum!"

In an elegant twirl, the stag appeared and looked expectantly at Harry.

"Hey you," Harry said. "My friends here tell me that you're helping Sirius a lot. But I'm getting tired, so can you maybe tone it down? Just a little so I won't be so tired."

The Patronus dipped his head until his nose touched the tip of Harry's wand and gradually lost some of its shine. Half translucent, it took its nose away and tilted its head questioningly.

Harry took a deep breath. "Yes, that's fine. Thank you, I appreciate it."

With a little bow, the Patronus vanished again, taking the warm light with it.

"Better now, Harry," Blue informed him. "Pull on magic much easier."

"I feel a bit guilty for doing it when Sirius isn't feeling well," Harry admitted. He allowed Blue to wind himself around his arm and then picked up Sweetie. "Do you think he'll manage?"

"He will," Sweetie replied, her little head and a bit of her slender body extending from the hole in the shell. In the golden lamp light, her pink markings were almost glowing, and her orange eyes shimmered brightly. "Harry's father not need magic. He need love."

"And there is enough love in the soul friend," Blue added. He rubbed his little head against Harry's wrist. "It's cold, Harry. Make it warm again."

Harry quickly cast the charms for the snakelings and then got up for dinner. "Remember to stay quiet, okay? My friend Ron is without spells right now, I don't want him to hurt you."

"The favourite told us that something is wrong with rude boy," Blue said. "I will try to get good look at rude boy for you."

"I'll help," Sweetie declared. "I want in your bag."

"You're the best." Harry carefully placed the egg in his robe pocket and tried to let the folds of the fabric fall in such such a way that the bulge wouldn't be very obvious. Blue was already comfortable under his shirt sleeve and wound around his arm. "Alright, let's go."

Since all the other third years had been in the Great Hall for the Patronus Club, Harry only met older and younger students on his way, and all of them looked at him curiously. The last stretch of the way, Colin Creevey joined him and handed over a stack of pictures.

"Here, those are the photos of the locks Ron tried to pick on Sunday. Could you give them out to the others? Professor McGonagall already got her own set."

"Of course. Thanks, Colin," Harry said. "Er, do you get paid for those?"

"Nah, I'm happy to help." Colin grinned. "Plus, I shot a really great picture of Hagrid and Buckbeak and it'll appear in the Herald. My name on that might get me a few jobs during the holidays. My neighbours always want good pictures of their kids, and I'm a lot cheaper than a professional photographer."

"Can you show them a magical newspaper?" Harry asked, a little worried. "I thought your parents were mundanes."

Colin's grin got even wider. "Turns out I can, since all of them have someone magical in their family. How weird is that, right? A lot of their kids will come to Hogwarts in the next years, it'll be like an invasion."

"Seems like you're all set, then," Harry offered.

They separated at the table. Colin went to sit with his friends, while Harry slid into the place Hermione had saved for him.

"Hey," he greeted her and the others across and around him. "How was the Patronus Club?"

"Not as exciting as the first meeting," Lavender said with a smirk. "But Parvati and Blaise both managed to get some silvery mist. Professor Lupin gave them ten points, each."

"Great!" Harry beamed at the blushing Parvati. "You'll be able to do it in no time."

"Hermione won't," Ron called smugly. "She hardly even tried - because she finally noticed that she can't be the best at everything."

"You hardly tried, too," Dean snapped. "In fact, you were more interested in whining about being hungry."

"So what? The dementors haven't bothered us yet, they'll stay away from the castle," Ron said dismissively. "Maybe I'll drop out, it's not like we'll be graded, anyway."

"Do what you want," Seamus said shortly, turning to his food.

As the others followed suit, Harry quietly asked Hermione, "Are you alright?"

She snorted. "Of course I am. Ron's exaggerating, as usual. I didn't try as often as the others because I was thinking about a good memory."

"And? Did you find one?"

"Not tonight," Hermione admitted softly, "but I think it's maybe because I have so many, and my mind won't stop long enough to let the impressions work. It's flitting right to the next one, comparing them with each other. As of now, I have 158 memories who might all work, if only I could manage to choose one long enough to immerse myself into it."

"I knew that there had to be a downside to this gift," Harry teased. "You'll figure it out."

"Yes, I will," she agreed without false shame. A shy look came over her face. "Maybe if I could have some private instruction, I could manage it sooner?"

"Whenever you like," Harry promised, pleased. He sobered a little when he noticed Lavender's keen eye on him. "So, only one more week until the Herald comes out. I'm getting nervous just thinking about it."

"Right?" Lavender squealed, making a couple of the boys wince. "There's still so much to do, because of course a couple of our writers missed the deadline. Parv and I will have to hound them, and everything that's not done on Friday will have to be chucked. Thankfully we have a few back-up articles about the same topics, although it feels icky to just replace them."

"Can't be helped," Harry said with a shrug. "Who wrote them?"

"Oh, the editorial staff, mostly," she replied. "Parvati, Hermione, Roger Davies from Ravenclaw, and two have been done by professors. They're very good, of course, but we, and they, don't want them to actually get published. The Herald is a student newspaper, after all."

"Yes, it's good that they try to let us manage on our own," Parvati added. "Although Professor McGonagall has been a huge help otherwise, especially in spell-checking and directing research."

"Will everyone in the school get a paper?" Harry asked. "I forgot, I'm sorry."

"Yes, everyone in Hogwarts will automatically get a free copy, unless they opt out." Lavender flipped her hair back. "You won't believe the ruckus the Herald has caused. A lot of the parents have signed up for their own copies because they don't want to wait for the students to send them theirs. And Gringotts reports that quite a few people who work for the Ministry want to get it as well. Our current print run is 3000, can you believe it?"

"I'm fully convinced that the Ministry will bray for us to stop," Hermione said. "We'll give them a lot of reasons, after all."

Lavender snorted. "They can try. The goblins checked all the laws for us, everything is airtight. But it'll be fun to see them frothe at the mouth. I've already blocked space in the next edition for that."

"You're positively bloodthirsty, Lavender," Dean said admiringly. "How about a drink in Hogsmeade?"

"I don't have time for dates, but I'll take the drink," Lavender replied, grinning when everyone around them laughed.

Later, when Harry was lying in bed and missing Sirius, the two snakelings snuggled close.

"Your father is safe now," Sweetie hissed. "Goblins very good protectors."

"I know," Harry sighed. He rubbed his chest. "It still feels odd, now that he's so far away. Not so good, if I'm honest."

"It will get better," Blue said. "Writing to your father helps."

Harry patted the journal and sighed. "It does, but I kind of want to hug him right now."

"He'll have much work, just like you. Brother try to scent rude boy tomorrow. Harry need to get close." Sweetie nudged Harry's chest with her nose. "And now sleep. I'm tired."

Smiling weakly, Harry cast the necessary protection spells onto the snakes so he wouldn't squish them during the night and then turned off the light with a whispered, "Nox."

oOo

To Harry's vexation, Ron proved to be a wiley git when he put his mind to it. He was always there, at the periphery of Harry's vision, but when Harry actively tried to seek the boy out, he made himself scarce. It baffled his friends and even his sister, who muttered darkly that Ron behaved like a little girl with a silly crush. Ginny herself seemed a lot less nervous in Harry's presence lately, which was its own kind of mystery, though not exactly unwelcome.

"I don't think Ronald has a crush on you," Hermione muttered on Friday as they walked to lunch. "But he is acting rather suspiciously. Any ideas?"

"Not yet," Harry said quietly. Under his sleeve, Blue was moving and trying to taste the air. "I'll have to corner him somehow."

"At least he's not been spelled again, yet." Hermione huffed. "What a mess."

"I'll keep trying, and Professor McGonagall said she'll help where she can. My best chance might be shortly before detention tonight. She's thinking about allowing me to come with the invisibility cloak."

Harry helped Hermione climb onto the bench and pushed the plate with the sautéed spinach towards her. Since his house elf friends had been accepted in the castle, the food had definitely improved in variety. As far as Harry knew, no one had complained about it yet.

"Has everyone turned in their articles?" he asked as they wolfed down chicken breast, spinach and buttery mashed potatoes.

"All but one, yes," Hermione said, "and Roger has until tonight to do it. We've been hounding him all week and he promised to bring it over after class is out."

"Well, I won't hold my breath," Parvati said. "He said he'd do it twice already, and then he gets distracted by some new, shiny book or something and forgets again." She rolled her eyes. "Ravenclaws, honestly."

"We're prepared and that's all that counts," Lavender said. "I refuse to stress myself out more than I absolutely have to."

"Hear, hear!" Seamus called and raised his water glass for a toast.

After lunch, Harry let Jules pop him into the Come and Go Room to handle his correspondence. There wasn't much to tell on his end, unfortunately, but Sirius had written another long letter, and Sharptooth had used their shared journal for the first time. It was that one Harry decided to answer first.

September 24, 1993

Heir Potter,

While Lord Black will undoubtedly have told you all about his crossing to Italy, I find myself compelled to relay Gringotts' impression of the event, for posterity's sake, if nothing else. It is not every day - and indeed, not even every century - that a wizard is allowed to traverse our realm, and it pleases us goblins greatly how appreciative Lord Black was of the great honour my Chief Ragnok decided to bestow on him.

Indeed, Lord Black was full of wonder as he passed the barrier in the deepest bowels of Gringotts' London branch, far past the oldest of vaults and the dragons who guard them. I'm sure his human eye will have let him see only a small part of magic's glimmer and shine as it danced around him, and yet he was fully capable of experiencing its intensity as it tangled with his own magic to allow him to pass through our inner sanctum.

For us goblins, his entrance into our world marked a change, some even say it heralded the beginnings of a new age. Whether that is true remains to be seen, but fact is that Lord Black's magic meshed quite beautifully with ours, and his spirit was open and receptive to what Magic willed him to know - and us as well. I can best decribe this profound experience as an exchange of faith, of a vision of the future in which both our races benefit from each other. Our seers are quite beside themselves, but it need not concern you in the foreseeable future. These dealings are between the Lord Black and Gringotts for now.

Negotiations are underway to allow you to watch the memories of Lord Black's travel. My Chief Ragnok is willing, but concerned about the security around your mind, youngling. If permission is denied, know that it is being denied for this reason, and this reason alone. The memory will be waiting for you until you're ready, that I can promise.

Everything else is progressing nicely. The deal for the second house in France has been finalized, and your elves are still hard at work to get your guest house ready. The human employees will start work on October 1st, and your Dobby estimates that the first guests may arrive in November, once the employees are trained to his satisfaction. Gringotts will put an advertisement into all relevant newspapers, of course, as soon as Dobby gives the go ahead.

Your question regarding a time-turner will require much thought and discussion, not only with the experts at Gringotts, but also Lord Black. Please have patience, we will get to it as soon as may be.

Last but not least, I'd like to remind you of Salazar Slytherin's library, and your plans for it. Lord Black, your law firm, and I all worked on a contract for the necessary parselmouth translators, and while you're not a lawyer, we'd like your input on the contract before we put out feelers for interested parties. I'll enclose it in my next official letter. Take your time reviewing it, and if you have concerns, I'll be more than happy to answer your questions.

May your profits ever fill your coffers, and your enemies whimper in fear.

Sharptooth

Steward to the Potter Family

Senior Account Manager

Harry blew out a breath. Yet more things he had to think about! But Sharptooth was right, he had wanted to do this, so he couldn't be annoyed that the adults in his life actually made things happen and expected him to fulfill his part. Besides, it wasn't like he wasn't curious, and Hermione would probably murder him if he tried to let it fall by the wayside.

I've already learned a copying spell. Next time in the Chamber, I'll try it out, see if it even works. If it doesn't, the whole thing might not work out, after all. In fact, why don't I go down there right now? The snakes will love it, I'm sure.

After a call, Jules appeared before him and assured him that yes, it was no problem to pop Harry Potter sir and the snakes to the Chamber of Secrets.

"It might be a problem to take Miss Hermione, too," Jules admitted sadly, "but one wizard is no problem."

"Thank you, Jules," Harry said, patting the elf's narrow shoulder. "It's just me today, anyway, so no worries. How's the library coming along?"

"The books are all sorted, and I stacked the defence texts prominently." Jules hopped excitedly. "I have been teaching Ninja how to read. He's slow, but he enjoys learning things to defend his master."

"Is he happy?" Harry asked.

"Oh, very much!" Jules squeaked. "Ninja does not like reading for himself, but he likes being able to fight a lot." He frowned a little. "Betty thinks he's mysterious."

That was one way to put it, Harry supposed. He fought to keep his grin to himself. "Alright, shall we?"

Travelling with Jules was effizient and worked just fine, but there was a marked lack of whirling around, like there was with Dobby and Betty. Harry figured that the damaged magic in Jules was to blame. It was a very calm ride, compared, but not a bad one at all. He thought that eldery people or people who abhorred portkeys and other fast methods of transportation would appreciate, if not love, it.

"Does Harry Potter sir need Jules for anything else?" the elf asked.

"No, thank you, I'll be fine." Harry waved as Jules popped away and then turned to the locked door to the Chamber. "I want to work in peace and quiet."

As the large metal snakes slowly slithered along, Blue and Sweetie stuck their heads out of Harry's sleeve and bag, respectively, scenting the air eagerly.

"Birth place is warded now," Blue said, orange eyes unblinking in the dim torch light. "Very good protection. It's clean now."

"Fresh," Sweetie agreed.

"I hope you can keep the password to yourselves," Harry said. The door swung open, revealing the large chamber behind. "If not, tell me now and I'll change it."

"We keep Harry's secrets," Sweetie said and nipped his hand reproachfully. "We know that here be things the Dark One can never see. The Favourite talked about it with your father."

"About that ... I wonder if Riddle hasn't seen them already," Harry said worriedly. "He knew that the Chamber existed for at least two years, since he killed a girl with the basilisk in his sixth year. He might have read all the books in there."

"Take me to the secret book room," Blue demanded. "The guardian will tell us."

Harry trotted all the way to Salazar's statue and climbed up and into his mouth, careful of the snakes on him. Audovera, the brass-coloured snake guardian, reared up from the stone door as he approached and opened her golden hood.

"You're back, Master. Welcome," she hissed.

"Hey, Audovera. How are you?"

"Bored, now that you have woken me," the snake admitted.

Figuring that he wouldn't get a better or more natural opportunity at asking his questions than this, Harry said, "Who was the last before me, and when?"

"Why, it was my Master Slytherin," Audovera said. She undulated a little, edging closer to Harry and flicking her metal tongue. Blue slipped from Harry's sleeve and met her halfway, tiny hood displayed. "Oh, a young one!"

"Harry calls me Blue. My sister is with us also," Blue informed her. "No one has seen the inside of the book room since your first master?"

"None," Audovera said. Her large head came closer and closer and her tongue carefully touched the baby before moving on to Sweetie's head that was poking out of Harry's bag. "You're offspring of Master Slytherin's poor familiar. The Dark One twisted her around and I could do nothing to prevent it. His parselgift was strong and ensnared her lonely mind."

"I'm sorry I had to kill her," Harry murmured. "I'm not proud of it."

Audovera slowly slithered back. "She was a proud and fierce guardian and protector for centuries. She didn't deserve to meet her end like this. If Master Slytherin knew what the Dark One has done, he'd weep his eyes out."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he muttered the password and carefully stepped inside as the door swung open.

Like the first time, the magic in the room took care of the darkness and dust, even though barely any new dust had accumulated in the past week or so.

"Very old magic," Blue said, turning his little head every which way. "Anchored to magic lines beneath the castle, stays fresh always."

"Really?" Harry gaped at the room. "I can't imagine that the spells are actually over one thousand years old."

"Magic knows no age if it is connected to the flow," Sweetie told him. "Harry has many books now."

"I do." Still a little dazed, Harry stepped up to the closest shelf and picked up one of the large journals. "I'll try to copy this one, it's about potions. I think." He drew his family wand and cleared his throat. "Er, exscribio haec."

Harry honestly hadn't expected this simple spell to work on a Hogwarts founder's books, especially since he'd been too lazy to look up the Latin word for 'journal' and just gone for Professor Flitwick's go to solution and just used 'this'. But it did work, and in a golden flush of magic, a perfect, if a little cheap looking copy, appeared out of thin air and fell into his hands.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. Hastily, he put the original back onto the shelf and opened the copy. "It's all there ... to the last page. But I only understand parts of it. Yep, it's potions."

"Good work," Blue praised, crawling over the open pages and flicking them with his tongue. "You will send it to the ground dwellers?"

"Just this for now, and just to Brady," Harry said. "Maybe he can read it better than me."

"The favourite is smart," Sweetie said, "but he is no lover of old languages. Is it safe to give it to him? Will he keep the secret?"

"I hope so. I mean, he's my doctor, he's already sworn a ton of oaths." Harry shivered against the unease that crawled up his spine. "I dunno, maybe I should tell him that this stuff is affecting my health ... he can't talk about any of it without my permission, then. At least I think so."

"Good idea," Sweetie said, satisfied.

Harry stuffed the journal into his bag, said goodbye to Audovera, and returned to the Come and Go Room with Dobby's help.

"Here," Harry said to his friend and handed the journal over. "Let me just write a quick letter and then take this to Brady, he'll know what to do with it."

In just a few minutes, Harry penned his note, actually putting in the part about the books affecting his 'emotional wellbeing', just so Brady could be safe from dangerous people. Afterwards, he read the letter out lout to Dobby.

"Do you think that's enough to protect him?" he asked the house elf afterwards.

Dobby cocked his head. "Dobby be thinking so. Without Harry Potter sir's permission, Healer Brady not be able to talk about book, and instruction for using blood protection on it be clever. No goblin or wizard be able to break it." A speculative look came over Dobby's little face. "It also be meaningful present to Harry Potter sir's Brady. He not be able to give it away."

"Do you think that's strange?" Harry asked anxiously. "I don't want him to feel weird about it."

"It not be weird," Dobby said with conviction. "It be proof of Harry Potter sir's trust. Dobby be knowing Harry Potter sir's Brady now - it be alright."

Harry still felt a little off-balance. "If you're sure ... please be careful, okay?"

"Dobby will," the elf squeaked and popped away.

For a few minutes, Harry distractedly played with a piece of parchment and his quill, doodling random runes in geometrical patterns, uneven waves, and in made-up little circles. Both snakelings, who insisted on crawling all over the huge desk, were always in the middle and visibly enjoying the exercise. A little bit of magic zinged from Harry's fingertips into the runes, only to wink out again when none of it found any sort of purpose.

Then, Healer Williams' journal lighted up, causing Harry to tip over his ink bottle.

"Shit," he cursed, trying to mop up the mess before remembering that he could use a spell for that.

"The favourite writes," Sweetie hissed, writhing within her egg. "His magic is upset."

Hearing that, Harry hurried to open the book and find the newest entry.

September 24, 1993

Harry,

This is incredible! I can't believe you actually managed to copy one of Slytherin's personal journals, and I can believe it even less that you want me to claim it with blood protection.

Are you sure? Absolutely sure?

Please answer, because I think I shall go distracted.

-Brady

P.S.: Thanks for thinking of my oaths. I would hate to reveal your secrets because of a loophole. We should close that as soon as may be.

Harry, having spilled all of his ink, took his biro, and began to write.

Brady,

It's really alright. It's only one of hundreds of books, and I can make other copies for the translators if we ever get around to finding them. Consider it an early Christmas gift.

I'm not stoked about yet another vow, but needs must, I suppose. :(

I know that the journal is about potions, but can you find out which potions? Do you think they'll be interesting for potions masters today?

-Harry

Healer Williams' answer came almost immediately this time, and several ink blots spoke of his agitation.

Harry,

It's too much, but I'll accept your generous gift - mostly because I know that your godfather would prank me mercilessly if I refused.

Thank you very much, I'll always treasure it.

I actually had a crash course in old dialects in university when I was studying to become a doctor, because we needed to be able to read ancient sources for medicines and ritual magics. Slytherin's writing is very old, of course, much older than most texts in parseltongue that have survived the ages, but reading the words out loud helps a little. I'll personally translate this journal as quickly as possible and send you a copy. It's only right that you know what's in that library. Just promise me not to try out any of the recipes without Madam Stone's supervision.

And yes, these notes will be of interest to practically everyone; why, I found a mention of a Luna Potion just by paging through it, and what I could read sounded suspiciously like an early version of the Wolfsbane Potion. Just imagine a recipe that is a thousand years older than the one we use today!

Will we meet on Sunday for our usual session, or would you like to talk now? I've heard that there has been some upheaval these last few days.

-Brady

Harry almost laughed out loud about Healer Williams' attempt at professionalism, even though he also felt like cringeing.

No, Sunday is fine, but thank you, he scribbled. Go on and read the journal, I want to know all about it on Sunday, yeah?

Brady drew a happy smiley and wrote, I'll do my best, although I might not be able to read all of it in just two days. But your confidence in my abilities is duly noted! Thank you, Harry. You can't possibly know how much I appreciate your gift. Oh, the golden girl tells me to greet you and her siblings. She demands a full accounting of your adventures on Sunday, and her brother honestly is no better. He's just not wasting words when he can have her speak for him. Alright, I'll be off now to read. Would you inform Sharptooth of this development? My healer's oaths unfortunately forbid me to share this information with him.

Harry grinned at Brady's giddy rambling. I will. Have a grand time! And greetings to Goldie and The Silent One!

He closed the journal and opened the one he shared with Sharptooth. The note was quickly penned and the circumstances explained, and suddenly the rest of the afternoon stretched out before him with a lot of hours to fill. With no homework to deal with right then, Harry decided to dress for flying and visit Hagrid and the hippogriffs, maybe take a few of them out for a lap or two around the grounds.

On his way out of Hogwarts, he encountered Blaise Zabini, and after a short talk, Zabini convinced Harry to take him along and the two boys spent a surprisingly enjoyable afternoon in each other's company ... and that of half a dozen hippogriffs, who decided that they needed a flying guard against the hovering dementors.

oOo

That Saturday morning, after their exercises, Harry told Hermione about his time with Zabini, and that the boy actually seemed to be quite alright for a Slytherin even upon closer acquaintance.

"He said he doesn't have time to play a long game with us, but it does seem like he wants to make nice with us," Hermione pondered. She blew a strand of her hair out of her face. "And I can see what he would gain from the acquaintance. But it's also risky to be seen with you like this; I assume people saw you?"

"Oh yes, loads," Harry said. "Ron glowered at us when we flew past Gryffindor Tower."

She rolled her eyes. "I can just imagine. So, being seen is like an open declaration for Zabini - he wants to be friends, and he doesn't care who in Slytherin knows it. That has to mean that his family is important enough not to be pushed around in certain circles-"

"And that they back Zabini up," Harry added.

Hermione smiled. "Exactly. Although it might just be his mom, but I heard that she's formidable."

"So, the Zabinis are against Riddle?" Harry sighed. "It would be nice to have help."

"Seems like it at least. It could be a really long game," Hermione said, leaning back on her elbows and breathing deeply. "But I don't get that vibe from him."

"Well, I'm not so sure about that," Harry replied, a little dryly. "How do you figure?"

"Do you remember what Tuva told him about cutting corners in class? That he shouldn't do it, no matter how tempting?"

"Yeah."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Someone who's already so impatient with getting on in his studies, it'd be very strange if he had the patience for a long con lasting several years."

"Huh, you could be right."

"I hope I am," Hermione said. "I rather like him and would hate to have to break his legs for crossing me."

Her conversational tone was so at odds with the meaning of her words that Harry nearly choked on his spontaneous, if a little scandalized, laughter.

Unperturbed, Hermione added, "We also have to wonder what they're gaining by openly declaring where their interests lie. Are there others they're hoping to sway, to increase their own worth in the numbers that follow them? Or is there something they can reasonably expect to gain by supporting you? I mean things like posts at the Ministry, or better yet, another country's government. Zabini all but told us that Italy has a vested interest in you, and it probably doesn't all have to do with Riddle."

"All good questions," Harry admitted. "I'll write Gringotts and ask them about the Zabinis, and maybe if there's something in Italy I should know about." Other than Sirius, he mentally added a little guiltily, but he shoved that feeling away like Healer Williams had taught him. "So you think we should wait and see what he'll do next?"

She shrugged lightly. "Seems like a waste not to. He's clever and not at all a lazy lout like Ronald. His work at the Herald this last week has been good as well. He has a knack for writing short, interesting pieces, and he offered to keep an eye on the Sirius Black situation with me, because politics are a hobby of his."

Harry just bet it was, but he held his tongue. Instead, he asked, "Are you ready for breakfast? Dobby made banana waffles with blueberries, and he got the really good bacon from somewhere in Wales."

"I'm famished." Hermione got to her feet and pulled Harry up with one efficient tug. "One of these days I'll have to figure out how to pay you back for all the food you give me."

"You don't have to," Harry said immediately, and just to prove it to her, he stacked four of the thick, crispy pancakes onto her plate and poured the goblins' caramel flavoured potion over them.

"I think I do," Hermione said, but she smiled. "I understand that you don't think it's necessary because you've got money, but I want us to be equals. I want to do nice things for you, too."

"But you do that all the time," Harry said, a little flustered. "Like, you're thoughtful and really helpful when I need it. I just have money." He shrugged a little uncomfortably. "I'll work on that."

Hermione got back up from her chair and went around the table. In one swift move she parked herself on his lap and put his arms around his neck. In a low voice, she said, "You're very thoughtful, Harry Potter. Far more than most other people in our house. You're such a boy sometimes, of course, but I'm willing to overlook that fact because I like you."

"Very funny," Harry mumbled and Hermione grinned and tucked his blushing face against her neck. Immediately, Harry was enveloped by her warm scent. A hint of salt teased his lips where they touched her skin and for a moment he felt like he would never want to leave her embrace.

"I'm serious," Hermione said softly. "You're plenty thoughtful, and I like that you want to better yourself." He stroked his hair with gentle fingers. "I want to be better, too."

"Could you try not to be so bossy?" Harry mumbled against her neck and grinned when she pulled at his hair in retaliation.

"See? You can be such a boy," Hermione huffed.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself." Harry lingered for a second longer and then allowed her to pull him away from her lovely skin. Without prompting, he leaned up to kiss her pouting mouth. "'Sides, if you're too perfect, some equally perfect bloke might come and take you away."

"As if," Hermione scoffed.

"It could be Diggory," Harry argued. "All the girls like him, because he's pretty, apparently. And smart." To him, that was definitely worse!

"He spends half his time in the library reading books about Quidditch," Hermione retorted with a mighty roll of her eyes. "You're quite safe for the time being, Harry."

"If that changes ..." Harry didn't quite know how he wanted to finish the sentence, but after thinking about Zabini's ease in Hermione's company, he felt that he needed to put it on the table ... even if it was uncomfortable and hurt a little.

"You mean if I don't like you like this anymore?" Hermione asked softly. "Harry ..."

"We haven't been dating long, I know, and I don't want to break up or anything. It's just ... what are the rules? How do people deal with this?" He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"I ... I guess they try to be honest," Hermione said, visibly disturbed. Her clasp around Harry's neck tightened a little. "It's hard, but I wouldn't want you to lie to me."

"Right." Harry let out the breath he'd been holding. "I don't want that, either. So, if it ever happens ... we just say it."

"Yes." Hermione sniffed suddenly. "Can we please change the topic? I don't feel good thinking about it."

Worried about her misting eyes, Harry hugged her tightly against himself. "Of course. I'm sorry."

"You're not allowed to bring that up again for at least a year if you don't actually want to break up with me," Hermione demanded, wiping the wetness off her lashes. "I take it back. You're not thoughtful at all, Harry James."

Harry liked the idea of sitting with Hermione like this a year from now and agreed at once. He also kept her on his lap, his protesting thighs be damned, just to keep her close and comfort her. It was surprisingly fun to eat around each other, and at the end of breakfast, they were back to teasing and making plans.

"Maybe it's a good thing that Wood has scheduled Quidditch practice this afternoon," Hermione said as they made ready to leave the Come and Go Room after another round of practicing the revealing spell. "Ron might not be on guard then. If there's anything I can do ..."

"I'm afraid not," Harry said. "Even if you could do the revealing spell, it wouldn't do us any good right now." Seeing the disappointed look on her face, he grasped her hand tightly. "You could maybe try and talk to Ginny. Perhaps she knows more about Ron's weirdness."

"What about the twins? You talked to them about Ron, shouldn't they watch out for him?"

"Fred and George?" Harry asked dubiously. "They did, but no idea if they still do. They're pretty busy with whatever they and Lee Jordan have cooking in secret."

"And Percy is busy with his studies," Hermione added unhappily. "Ronald has four siblings with him and none of them seem to care what a git he is."

"Try Ginny, she's the most likely to let something spill," Harry said. "Should be easy, you both like to complain about Ron."

"I'd whack you for that, but it's true." Hermione smirked at Harry's laugh. "I'll do my best. Will I see you for dinner?"

"Depends on how much of a terror Wood's being." Harry was hesitant to let go of her hand. "But, I'll try. Promise that you'll be careful. Who knows how much attention Dumbledore's paying to Ron. He already knows that Professor McGonagall is involved because she wrote to Mrs. Weasley and complained about him."

"I will," Hermione said at once.

Not feeling very enthusiastic about either Quidditch or leaving her alone with Ginny, Harry nonetheless called for Betty and asked her to first pop him away and then take Hermione wherever she wanted to go.

oOo

Wood's idea of training seemed to consist of making everyone run drills until even the players' strong constitution was challenged by the wet and windy weather. There were also ominous shadows drifting at the closest part of Hogwarts' border to the Quidditch pitch, and since they were all feeling unreasonably chilled, it was not a stretch to suspect dementor involvement.

"I'm sorry, Oliver, but I've had enough," Alicia Spinnet shouted over the howling wind. "Those beasts are doing something to us!"

"Potter, can't you send a Patronus?" Wood shouted.

"He could, but he shouldn't have to," Professor Lupin's voice said mildly, although it was amplified by a spell. It still made them jump. Harry hadn't even noticed him walking up to the pitch, he'd been so busy staying on his broom in the storm. "I'll do it, but I want you to head inside now." Lupin raised his wand and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" in the general direction of the moving, misty shadows. His wolf patronus burst forth and ran at full speed towards the disturbance.

"It's only six more weeks until the first match!" Wood argued, but he did let his broom sink down. Several loud, unearthly shrieks caused his face to pale. "Good lord."

"Quite. You're all suffering from mild dementor exposure," Lupin said. "Get inside and report to Madam Pomfrey. We'll have to file this with the Ministry and notify your parents."

Worried, the whole team touched down and accepted the chocolate the professor was handing out.

"That's bad," Katie Bell said unhappily. She shivered, and Harry could see how blue her lips were. "My mom is already up in arms against those things."

"It's definitely not good," Lupin agreed. "Professor McGonagall promised your parents to be proactive in your protection, and now that you've personally experienced how insidious a dementor's attack can be, you'll hopefully understand the teachers' stand better."

"I can't believe that Dumbledore isn't banning them from Hogwarts already," Fred said and stuffed a whole rib of chocolate into his mouth. "Is there anything else we can do, except cast the Patronus charm? It's all well and good that Harry can cast it, but no one else is that lucky, yet."

"Besides, it's really not our job to defend the game against those things," Angelina Johnson said quietly. She looked at Wood. "I'm sorry, Oliver, but if Dumbledore won't keep them away from the pitch, I'm out. I've got OWLs this year, I can't deal with this on top of everything else."

"Yeah, us too," George said. "Sorry, Wood."

"I'm the captain, I'll take it up with McGonagall," Wood said. His pallor lessened a little as he aggressively chewed his chocolate. "I won't let the headmaster ruin the game for us - our last chance to win the cup."

Professor Lupin sent another Patronus after the first, just to make sure the dementors were gone, and then ushered them back to the castle. The rain was coming down heavily now, too heavy for safe walking, and so Harry let Lupin ride with him, his wand out in case he needed it.

To their great dismay, Madam Pomfrey was already waiting for them and escorted the whole group to the hospital wing. There, Professor McGonagall and a stern-looking witch with a monocle stood sentry and took copies of every scan the nurse performed into a file.

"Seven students suffering from dementor exposure ... the public will go spare," the stern-looking witch, who Professor McGonagall had introduced as Amelia Bones, head of the auror corps at the Ministry, muttered as she stuffed Harry's health report into the folder. "See that you get word out to the parents, Minerva. Might well be that Dumbledore will try to suppress this news."

"Over my dead body," Professor McGonagall said, her nostrils flaring.

Madam Bones' gimlet eye fell to the students. "Any of you work at the student newspaper?"

"No, we've all got OWLs, and NEWTs," Katie said with a head shake. "And Harry's been forbidden by his magical guardian."

"My guardian's proxy," Harry said, looking defiantly at Madam Bones. "Which is Professor Dumbledore."

"I see," Madam Bones said, not a hint of surprise in her voice. "Nevertheless, this would make excellent news, don't you agree?"

"Yes, ma'am," Fred and George said in unison, smirking. "We'll get right to it. Professor, if you'll excuse us."

They both sketched a little bow at Professor McGonagall and then bolted from the infirmary. Exchanging looks, the rest of the team was hot on their heels, hollering for them to wait up. Only by virtue of Professor Lupin's gentle headshake did Harry stay behind.

Madam Bones sat on the opposite bed in the suddenly eerily quiet hospital wing and stared intently at Harry. "Now, why don't you tell me why it is that Albus Dumbledore is only your magical guardian's proxy?"

oOo

The dementor situation was all over the school by the time Harry made it to dinner. Hermione accosted him outside the Great Hall, patted him down worriedly and finally hugged him so fiercely that his ribs protested.

"Easy," he whispered into her hair. "I'm fine. Professor Lupin showed up before it got bad."

"I'm so angry that it happened at all," she hissed back. "Dementors at the pitch! What is Dumbledore thinking, doing this to students who have important exams this year! And you! One would think he'd try to protect you as much as possible!"

Harry brushed a kiss against her cheek and stepped back. "He's about to get the bollocking of his life. McGonagall, Lupin, Pomfrey and that lady from the Ministry, Madam Bones, have all gone up to his office. And Madam Bones told us to tell our friends at the Herald, and to contact our parents, in case Dumbledore tries to somehow sweep it under the rug."

"We're out of room, but who cares. Lavender will make it work. It's not like the goblins can't afford to spring for extra pages," Hermione said darkly. "Oh, I want to set Dumbledore's stupid beard on fire!"

Harry grinned. "Just say the word and I'll tell the elves that they can help you."

"You're laughing now, but I'm taking you up on this. Tell them tonight and you'll see that Fred and George Weasley have nothing on me."

Her challenging stare had Harry gulp, but he'd made the offer and he would stand by it. "Just don't get caught, yeah?"

Hermione actually snorted. "As if."

By mutual agreement, they then headed in for dinner and Harry was asked to tell his version of the dementor attack. Parvati took copious notes and Lavender asked for access to Madam Pomfrey's findings, which those over seventeen years of age had granted.

"I can ask, but I don't think I can do that without Dumbledore's permission," Harry told them a little regretfully. "At least Madam Bones took all our reports to the Ministry for the complaint." And I got a copy for myself, or rather, Sirius. He'll be so mad.

Lavender had her thinking face on, and after a moment of deliberation, said, "We can ask him for a statement, then, since he's your guardian and everyone wants to know how you're doing. He either lies to us, which will be obvious when compared to the other statements, or he tells the truth, which will be good for our fight against the dementors. We really can't lose."

"Won't he be angry with you?" Harry asked. "I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Oh, a little strife is good for a reporter's soul," she replied quite cheerfully. "It means that we've hit where it hurts, right?"

Harry nodded admiringly. "Sounds good."

"Although maybe you shouldn't go and meet him alone," Hermione said, to everyone's shock. "Think about it, how often has Dumbledore tried to keep issues quiet? He can be persuasive. Talking to him as a group, or maybe with a teacher in tow, will stop him from doing that."

"It's not a bad idea at all," Parvati said into the stunned silence. "Besides, it's literally Professor McGonagall's job to act as the go-between for the Herald and the school, right? She'll watch him for us."

After dinner, Harry managed to take Hermione away from the gaggle of excited students and locked them into a nearby empty classroom. He checked for portraits before he asked Hermione about her talk with Ginny.

"It was as dull as I expected it to be," she said. "Ginny complained a lot about Ron, and that she doesn't understand him at all lately. I'm pretty sure that she truly doesn't know what's going on with him."

"That's disappointing," Harry admitted.

"Don't I know it. But." Hermione perked up a little. "I noticed that Ginny is acting weirdly, as well. She isn't nearly as nervous around you as she was before, never mind what a wreck she was before the holidays. Compared to that, she's downright ... cool now."

"Oh ... you're right. But she was still interested in the basilisk money and wanted me to tell everyone that I gave it away," Harry reminded her.

"It's definitely a complex problem," Hermione agreed. "And it's hinky as all hell. Maybe we should hit her with a revealing spell, too, just to check whether she's under the influence. Since she's at Hogwarts with us, and none of us noticed her seeing a mind healer or something, nothing else makes sense."

"It'll have to be me, then." Harry kicked his feet unhappily. "If you do it, or Professor McGonagall, Ginny will see the spells on herself."

"True." Hermione sat on the table across from Harry. "We'll get to the bottom of this. At least your stuff is protected from Ron now, and we know that something's going on. We'll be on our guard, that's worth a lot already."

"I just don't understand why this is happening," he replied. "Spelling Ron to be nicer, okay, I sort of get that. But I know that this isn't all, and that's driving me crazy. If Dobby weren't making my bed safe every night, I wouldn't be able to sleep."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione said quietly. "No one should have to live like that."

"Well, no one who has bad intentions," Harry amended. "We're stalking Ron all over the castle and I'm not feeling super guilty about it. At least, not anymore. So, maybe I deserve it a little bit."

"That really doesn't make it any better," Hermione informed him. She sighed. "At least testing Ginny will be easy, she's always hanging around you these days."

"Small favours. I'll let you go now, the Herald will be busy." He stood and held Hermione's hand as she scooted off the table. "I'll see you tomorrow."

After a kiss to the cheek, they parted ways. Hermione headed to the Hogwarts Herald's office and Harry slowly climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor common room.

Small favours, indeed, he thought as Ginny crossed his way in a corridor, unaware of his presence.

It was appallingly easy to fling the spell at her back, adding yet another thing to Harry's research list. Unfortunately, she was as clean of foreign magic as Ron was, and Blue's hissed confirmation made the discovery even bleaker.

oOo

I don't know what to do, Harry later wrote into Sirius' journal. I keep looking and looking and nothing's there, but I know there is something wrong with both of them. Don't you have an idea? Anything at all?

Sirius' answer took a little while, but when it came, it took some weight off Harry's conscience, even as it horrified him further.

Pup,

This must be dreadful, to make you to react like this. Your mum could be like that; in fact, she had an outstanding instinct when it came to people. Never could abide her sister's husband, and I'm sorry to say that she held your father in contempt from the moment she met him until he finally decided to mend his ways.

After thinking about what you've told me about your Weasleys, it suddenly hit me: it could be family magic. You wouldn't be able to reveal it with your spell because it wouldn't be foreign magic. Family magic is its own branch of magic, and very hard to detect by outsiders. If it's old enough, which it definitely is in the Weasleys' case, it usually actively works to hide itself - to keep the secrets of its family. Mostly, it's good, because it prevents spell theft and such, but if it's used to influence its members negatively? Not good at all.

Worse, interfering could, and would, be viewed as a direct threat by most families, and could cause a blood feud. (Remind me to enlighten you about the workings of those, because that's a seriously nasty bit of magic right out of the Dark Ages.)

Now, Arthur Weasley is a good man, but he isn't actually the head of the family. The honour belongs to his great-uncle Howard Weasley, and Howard is a whole different animal. You don't want to cross him if you can help it, because he won't care about the age of an offender, or their reason for the offence.

It is also by no means certain that family magic is involved, my suspicion is just that - suspicion.

My advice to you, difficult as it is to give it, is to take a step back from the situation. I know that you worry about your friend, and I know that something is wrong. Gringotts knows it as well, if only because the two children in question are holders of a small fortune thanks to you, and your worry is worrying them. I can't say more, per Gringotts' confidentiality clauses that apply to all its customers, but Sharptooth assures me that they're as watchful as they can be under the circumstances.

Trust in Magic's sense of right and wrong. Most importantly, please allow yourself to hand over responsibility. You have done everything you can, let us adults handle this situation.

I'm sorry that I can't give you better news, or more productive advice. For my peace of mind, please instruct your elves to watch over you at all times. I don't trust Dumbledore (or whoever else is guilty of this travesty), and I certainly don't trust the British Ministry of Magic.

Sleep well. I love you.

-Sirius

Harry swallowed and caressed the letters on the page wistfully. What wouldn't he give for a hug right now, one that smelled like home and comfort and Sirius.

"Dobby," he called quietly, smiling weakly when the elf appeared at once, balancing on Harry's shins. "I have two things for you tonight. One, Hermione asks whether any of you are interested in ruining Dumbledore's life. She'll tell you all about it and you have my blessing. And two, Sirius told me to ask you to watch over me because he doesn't trust Dumbledore or the Ministry. He's worried because of the thing that's going on with Ron."

"Dobby be very interested in helping Miss Mione, and protecting his Harry Potter sir," Dobby said, his ears twitching. "Dobby and Betty be very busy with houses in France, but Dobby be having idea. Dobby be right back."

He vanished, leaving Harry stumped and a little worried. Dobby's ideas were usually interesting, but not knowing at all what he'd come up with was also quite nerve-wracking.

Almost ten minutes later, during which Harry had played with Sweetie and Blue, the house elf returned to him, a strange elf clothed in a black uniform in tow. At the same time, Sirius' journal flashed insistently.

"Master Harry," the strange elf said, bowing so deeply that his nose actually touched Harry's comforter. "It be joyous day for Zippy! Very joyous, indeed!"

"Er, thank you," Harry said. "Uhm, likewise!"

"Zippy be Harry Potter sir's family's head elf," Dobby explained, eyes large and grin just shy of feral. "Harry Potter sir's dogfather be calling himself idiot and then he be calling Potter elves after Dobby's visit and allowing them to meet Harry Potter sir. Old Dumblydore's orders no good against real dogfather's call."

"Zippy begging Master Harry's pardon, but Potter elves be wanting connection to family heir." Zippy wrung his little hands, eyes a little wide and expression desperate. "Us elves be without proper purpose for years and years."

Harry could hardly fathom having even more elves in his life to call friends, but he certainly wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Um, of course," he said after clearing his throat. "It's really nice to meet you, Zippy. I didn't know you were waiting for me." He offered his hand for a shake and wasn't surprised when the house elf's magic slammed into him like an over-eager bludger. "Oof! You pack quite a punch!"

"Zippy be sorry, Master Harry, but us Potter elves be very lonely. Old Dumblydore not be allowing visits, and we be unable to locate Master Harry's dogfather in mean wizard prison." Zippy anxiously pulled at his ears. "Potter elves failed Master Harry. We be very, very sorry we didn't believe Dobby when he be telling us to see you in the summer. We be afraid of Dumblydore's nasty slimy magic. Master Harry be needing to determine punishment because nothing Zippy be thinking of be enough."

"Stop," Harry said softly, but sternly, and the visibly miserable elf halted the abuse of his ears. "You offered your help the moment you could come to me, Zippy. I know why you couldn't come see me sooner and it's not your fault. I'm glad you were safe, after what Voldemort did to my parents!"

Zippy looked at Dobby in anguish. "Zippy should have been clever like Dobby ... Zippy should have found loophole to help poor Master Harry. Zippy is a bad elf!"

Harry stopped him from bashing his head against a bed post with a quick yank on the elf's little uniform jacket. "I really don't think so. Dumbledore is smart. But if you like, you can try and find a loophole now," he said comfortingly. "Sirius wants you to watch over me; why don't you meet with Romy and talk it over? Romy is Hogwarts' head elf and needs to know."

"Hogwarts elves be having alliance with Harry Potter sir," Dobby supplied smugly. "It not be hard to find loophole now."

"Zippy will meet her at once," the elf declared and popped away with a vicious little snap of his fingers.

"He be eager," Dobby said. "Potter elves be needing to make up for ten years of not working for Harry Potter sir."

"But it's really not their fault," Harry protested.

"It not matter." Dobby petted Blue, who was crawling up the elf's body. "House elves be having contract with wizards. Imbalance be painful. But there be lots and lots of work to do now, so pain will soon be gone."

"That's not in your book," Harry said softly, shocked. "I never knew our bond is so unfair to you."

"Not be unfair," Dobby corrected him patiently. "It just be magic. Wizards not be blaming rain for being wet, Harry Potter sir, and us elves not be blaming good wizards for magic of bond. It be gift from Magic and it be making us happy."

"You're too good for us humans," Harry declared, meaning it completely. "I'll try to find lots of work for them. You'll help, right?"

"Oh, Dobby has many ideas," Dobby assured him, only to suddenly look uncertain. "Dobby be understanding if Harry Potter sir be wanting family elf to work with goblins now, and buy all the important things."

"Er, Dobby ... you are a family elf, now," Harry said. "Aren't you?"

"Dobby's bond be different," Dobby said, both proud and worried. "Not be like family bond. It be friend bond."

"Well, okay, that's probably my fault, but it doesn't matter to me," Harry said firmly. "I told you that you're the boss, and with how well you've done everything so far, why would I change that?"

"Dobby not be boss of Potter elves," Dobby squeaked. "It be complicated."

"It isn't," Harry said stubbornly. "Let Zippy be the boss of the Potter elves and the family stuff. You are the boss of me, at least until I'm old enough to actually visit my family's home. Then we can talk about it. Does that sound alright?"

Dobby's eyes got impossibly wide. "Harry Potter sir really wants to trust Dobby with everything?"

"I already do." Harry took the elf's trembling hands in his. "For me, nothing changes. I'm glad for Zippy and the others; Zippy seems to be a nice little guy, but it'll be strange for a while."

"Dobby be working extra hard to prove that he's worthy of Harry Potter sir's trust," Dobby declared. "Dobby be going now to bring news to Betty and Jules and Ninja."

And off he went, Blue floating into Harry's lap with a little whirl of house elf magic.

"House elf politics are confusing," the snakeling hissed. He seemed a little overwhelmed so Harry picked him up and let him settle around his shoulders. "But they seem to be good friends."

"I have no idea how I deserve their faith," Harry admitted. "They're all so great."

Sweetie nudged him with her snout. "I want up with you, Harry. Make me warm. And I'm hungry. Elf magic too wild to eat yet."

Smiling at her, Harry apologized for ignoring her and stuck her egg to his chest. With a little concentration he was able to bring a little of his magic to the surface of his skin and just let her and Blue bask in it. "Is that good?" he asked, stroking her little head. "Will it be enough? I can call my soul friend."

"This is just fine, Harry," Blue said. "Let's read what your father wrote."

Obediently, Harry flipped open the journal and read the entry out loud to his audience. It was a long piece of writing to translate, but Harry welcomed the challenge as training for when he switched to writing in his journal in parseltongue.

Harry,

I originally tasked Finch (of Walker, Stone & Finch) with telling you all about your family's holdings once you finally get around to a meeting, but now that Dobby has opened this particular floodgate, Zippy can begin that process and Finch can focus on other pressing things for the time being. I guess he'll be relieved, because there are things going on in the wizarding world that make me want to murder a good portion of the people in it.

I'm only mildly concerned about the fact that I can refuse Dobby very little when he takes your security so very seriously.

You have around twenty house elves, in case they haven't multiplied during the last decade, and will be very useful to you. Just make sure that they bond properly with you first so your secrets will be safe. I mean no insult to your friendship to your other elves, but the Potter elves have been in the family for generations and need to affirm their existing bond to fully realize their potential. How you wish to shape that bond afterwards is entirely up to you, of course, so don't worry about it should they be formal with you at first.

I even thought to forbade them to serve Dumbledore and Riddle in any capacity, but you'll have to reinforce that order as soon as possible after you bond with them. Better safe than sorry, pup!

I remember that the Potters had one or two trained security elves, but I have no idea if they're still alive. Zippy was in a hurry to meet you when I called him. Be sure to instruct them thoroughly, and send them to Ninja for training, if necessary. As long as I'm safe in Gringotts, he won't have much to do, and he already let me know that too few elves are properly trained these days.

And now I've really kept you up long enough. Enjoy your evening and sleep well.

-Sirius

Still feeling a little needy, Harry painted his fingertip with ink and pressed it and a bit of his magic onto the paper.

"Good night," he murmured, relishing in the answering little zing, and then closed the journal.

oOo

Sunday went down in Harry's personal journal as The House Elf Day, because he met all twenty-three of his family's house elves at once and bonded with each individually. There were a lot of tears and hugs, and even more deliriously happy magic catching Harry in its hug and only letting him go again when the last of the elves had popped away.

"That's a lot of house elves," Sweetie said after they were alone again in the Come and Go Room. "Their babies are kind of ugly. Very wrinkly."

"Yeah, they look a little like super wrinkly garden gnomes, but they feel absolutely brilliant," Harry replied with a soppy smile. He could still feel his fingers tingling where the three little ones had grasped him. Their broad, delighted grins had charmed him to the core and he knew that he'd probably spoil them rotten if their parents let them get away with it. "I'm glad that Dumbledore didn't forbid them to mate. You saw how worried they were that I'd break up their families."

"Harry has many protectors now," Blue hissed, audibly satisfied. He wound around Sweetie's egg shell and squeezed gently. His sister in turn placed her head on one of his coils and lazily flicked her tongue in Harry's direction.

"But my family's security elves got killed when Voldemort attacked," Harry said sadly. "I don't want anyone else to die for me."

"They don't want to die, either," Sweetie said pragmatically. "You better are nice to nice elves and help, Harry. They promised us lots of mice later."

"I promised, too," Harry huffed and resolutely rubbed his wet eyes. "I won't do stupid things. Between them and Hermione we've got this covered."

He was also planning on setting a couple of them up as Sirius' secret protection detail. Ninja would probably love having his own little strike force - he was certainly appreciative of Harry's training in self-defence.

"I'll go see Neville now. We've got our ceremony to plan. Do you want to come along, or do you want to visit your siblings?" Harry asked.

"We go to siblings," Sweetie decided. "We come back tonight."

"Cool."

Harry didn't wait around, he called Dobby to drop the snakelings off at wherever Healer Williams happened to be, and then went to find Neville.

He found the other boy in greenhouse six, where Madam Sprout kept some of the school's kitchen plants and herbs.

"Oh, hi, Harry!" Neville called cheerfully. He offered Harry a spade. "What's up?"

Squatting down, Harry accepted the spade and began to dig into the soil. "Not much. Just thought we could talk about our thing."

"Only four more weeks," Neville said. "You still sure?"

"I won't change my mind," Harry replied. He took a piece of sweet potato out of Neville's basket and buried it carefully. "Those are new."

"Yeah, someone decided to update our menu." Grinning, Neville placed his own sweet potato into the ground, lovingly patting it before scooping a mound of earth over it. "I'm not complaining, the fare was a bit dull the first two years, wasn't it? With the heating charms and the enriched soil, the potatoes will grow year round, just like the mangoes and avocados. Madam Sprout would really like at least two more hothouses to grow mushrooms and mangold and stuff like that."

"I don't think I've ever eaten mangold," Harry confessed.

"It tastes a lot like spinach," Neville supplied. "I like it, but our cook prepares it with garlic and butter, so I guess it's bound to taste good."

Harry laughed. "Right. So, our godbrother bonding thing. What do you think about it? Is there something you'd like to do?"

"Other than exchanging the vow?" Neville shrugged. "Traditionally, there's some food. Maybe music?"

"How many people? I think your grandmum would like to be there." Harry grimaced. "Maybe Dumbledore wants to attend, but I don't want to invite him. He's not family to me."

"Then don't ask him," Neville replied. "I understand and wouldn't be offended. But, I'd like to ask Professor Sprout, because she's nice. And, er, I have a feeling that she'd like to apprentice me. Later, I mean, after Hogwarts."

"Wow, really?" Harry stared at Neville. "That's amazing!"

Neville smiled, pleased. "Thank you."

"Okay, so Professor Sprout. Hagrid definitely, I think. What about Professor McGonagall. Or Flitwick? Would they even care?"

Neville thought about it for a moment. "Most teachers liked coming to Hermione's birthday party. We can invite them, they don't have to come if they don't want to. Although ... and I know you hate thinking about things like that, but ... it might well become political, if we decide to invite adults at all, other than family. I don't care, but you should think about it."

"You're right, it's stupid." Harry sighed. "We'll have lots of guests, won't we?"

"Only if we both want it," Neville said calmly. "Why don't we write a guest list each and see what's different? We can discuss it then."

"Sounds good. I'll take care of the food," Harry offered. "What music is good?"

"Nothing during the ceremony, and I guess whatever we like for the party afterwards." Neville grinned. "Why don't we leave this part to the girls? They're the ones who want to dance and stuff."

"Deal," Harry said quickly, and in silent agreement they dropped the topic and turned their attention to the planting and watering that still needed to be done.

They worked together for an hour and then trudged back up to the castle for lunch. The Hogwarts Herald group sat together at the Hufflepuff table, which meant that Harry was alone with Ron and Ginny, and they seemed determined to tag-team him with accusations.

"You didn't have to run to McGonagall over your stupid trunk," Ron said angrily, waving a letter around. "My dad cancelled my Hogsmeade permission because of you! Nothing even happened!"

"Because we stopped you!" Neville cried, hushing the others around them. "You'd have merrily taking anything you pleased, and that makes you a thief, Weasley! Merlin, I'm so fed up with you!"

"It wasn't the nicest thing Ron could've done," Ginny said, elbowing her fuming brother, "but can't you talk about it like normal people before you run to the teachers like huge cry-babies?"

"No, we can't," Harry said shortly. "Because it wasn't the first time, and because Ron damaged our property on purpose. And did you not understand that he was trying to steal? From all of us?"

"He would've given it back eventually," Ginny insisted. "Right, Ron?"

When the boy remained stubbornly silent, Harry said, "I'm still waiting for my three galleons." He put his cutlery down, appetite ruined already.

"Why?" Ron exploded. "It's not like you need it. You're filthy rich."

Ginny elbowed him again. "Stealing is wrong, but Ron's got a point. You are rich, Harry. Three galleons is nothing, compared to what you have in your vault."

"Especially now," Ron added meaningfully and obviously resentfully about having to keep it vague.

"That's not the point!" Neville looked ready to tackle Ron to the ground and pummel him. "The point is that you do not take things from others without asking for their permission first!"

"If you ever do that again, we're through," Harry added as calmly as he could. "I mean it, Ron. I've had enough of your weird behaviour, and everyone else has, too."

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you'd just given-" He choked suddenly and his face turned an unhealthy shade of red.

"Don't talk about it, you dolt!" Ginny hissed. "Nevermind, Harry. Ignore him, he's just being stupid."

All around them, eyebrows were raised and ears pricked, but Harry wasn't inclined to satisfy their curiosity. Instead, he took his plate and followed Neville to the Hufflepuff table, where they were at least able to eat in peace, if not silence.

oOo

Harry could hardly wait for the clock to strike five in the afternoon. When it was finally time for Healer Williams to write into the journal, Harry had already stepped into the magical cystern the Come and Go Room provided, and finished his homework for Ancient Runes. The jitters were still there, however.

September 27, 1993

Brady,

Is there any reason why we can't talk over the Floo? I nearly stabbed Blue with my quill earlier, because he insists on getting in my way.

-Harry

The answer was gratifyingly short.

Harry,

If you can manage a call, do it. My address is: Gringotts, Brady Williams' Office.

Talk to you in a minute.

-Brady

Harry slammed the journal shut, patted Blue, who was lying curled around his neck, and made sure that Sweetie was secure in his robe pocket.

Please be connected to the floo, Harry begged the Come and Go Room and yes! There was suddenly a large bowl with floo powder standing on the mantle! He threw a healthy pinch into the flames.

"Gringotts, Brady Williams' office!" he called as the fire turned green.

"Harry! It worked!" Healer Williams exclaimed only a moment later. His face looked very weird in the dancing flames. "How? Won't Dumbledore notice?"

Harry found a cushion next to the fireplace and sat down on it. Apparently it wasn't necessary to stick his head inside the fireplace, as long as some part of him touched the fire. He chose his feet, his toes were cold, anyway.

"The Come and Go Room, and I don't think so," Harry explained succinctly. "I can't believe I didn't think about it sooner."

"It's great for us, because it's an escape route if you ever need one." Healer Williams winked. "I wouldn't recommend going out for fun, because I assume that you don't know how to get back there."

"I don't, but maybe we can find out later. I'm pretty sure one of the house elves would pop me." Harry took a deep breath. "So, things happened, and I don't know where to start."

"In just two days?"

Harry groaned. "Now you jinxed it!"

Healer Williams' warm laughter was almost as good as Sirius', and when the man asked for specifics, Harry launched into their talk eagerly, starting with the dementor attack.

"Sirius hasn't said anything about it, yet," Harry finished. "I'm a little afraid what he'll do."

"Oh, other than getting Fudge and every single one of his cronies ousted from his office because they're clearly incompetent?" Brady asked dryly. More seriously, he added, "He'll raze the world for you, if necessary, you know that, right? We haven't talked about this yet, but I'm convinced that he'll set Stone on the British Ministry of Magic and make them regret all their life choices."

"I plan to send him two of the Potter house elves," Harry blurted. "For his protection. Seems like he'll need them if he plans to go to war."

"Oh, he can definitely do with more helping hands," Williams agreed, tone still dry. "However, before you take that step, you should know that he's sent out Ninja to find more elves to fight his battles. There are more than you might think. He hasn't bonded with any, yet, but it won't be long. Nearly nothing is as attractive to a house elf in need than a wizard who is reaching out like he is and plans to wrap them up tight in his magic and affairs. You rather inspired him in that regard."

"Really?" Harry smiled.

"Well, he doesn't plan on being as nice about it as you," Williams admitted. "He will choose them for their, er, unique skills, which in turn means that those house elves will be a different brand than your friends, but that doesn't mean that Sirius won't treat them well."

"If he'll have his own elves, what would he need mine for, then?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Your elves would function as liaison between your families and take care of any immediate private business that arises," Williams explained. "Once your godfather's trial has begun, he'll be glad to have those elves to deal with his affairs here in Britain. Walker, for all that his law firm is staffed for every eventuality, just can't match that intimacy, and frankly, some things just aren't his business. You'll see what I mean when the time comes."

"Okay."

"What's next on your list, then?" Williams asked.

The issues with Ron and Ginny were talked over quickly, with Healer Williams repeating Sirius' warning to let it be for now, and to let the adults handle it. Apparently family magic was a huge headache in law enforcement circles as well, because it was so darned hard to uncover.

Next was the godbrother bonding with Neville, and about that Williams had quite a bit to say.

"Your friend is right, of course. You're Harry Potter; I wouldn't be surprised if people tried to invite themselves to your ceremony just to be seen with you. You need to keep a tight lid on the event, and make it clear that it is about family and friends if that's what you want."

"Definitely!" Harry said feelingly.

"I thought so. Don't invite anyone from the Ministry, and ask your teachers for help," Williams instructed. "I assume that you'd like to have some of them witness the bonding?"

"Yeah, most of them are pretty nice." Harry bit his lip. "I'd like to invite Professor Lupin. Do you think that's okay? I know that he and Sirius are having problems."

"You should ask Sirius about that yourself," Williams said gently. "But I can't imagine that he'd deprive you of his presence, if you like Lupin enough to invite him."

"Okay." Harry exhaled slowly. "I just don't want to hurt him."

"You won't," Williams assured him. "Just talk to him, let him be a part of your life. Now, are you thinking of asking Hermione to be your date for the ceremony?"

"Er, should I? I thought she would be, since we're dating and everything."

"You might be dating, but that doesn't mean that a girl wouldn't like to be asked, every now and then." Williams grinned. "It doesn't have to be a grand affair, just ... be there, show her that you're not taking her for granted. Such an occasion is special, and you should never assume that she wants to spend her time with you. That's not just arrogant, it's also unrealistic."

"How so?" Harry asked. "We're all busy with the same things, mostly."

"But you're still your own people, with your own interests. There will be times when she won't have time for one reason or another. Asking her out will prevent you from feeling resentful when something is more important to her right that moment."

"I'm pretty sure I'll still feel resentful," Harry said, frowning.

"Granted, it's not great when that happens. You'll have time to make other plans, though, and still make the thing you want to do a great thing, instead of being angry at her for something she can't help. She could have important homework to finish, for example, or an engagement with a friend that she doesn't want to cancel."

"I get it, but what if she wants to go with other people to the same thing?" Harry asked. Something in his chest squeezed uncomfortably. "Isn't that like breaking up?"

"What brought this on, Harry? Is something wrong?" Williams asked worriedly.

"No, of course not. We just ... talked about it yesterday. What to do if we stop liking each other." Harry shrugged. "She said she doesn't want to talk about it for at least a year, unless I actually want to break up. But I don't understand - if she wants to go with someone else somewhere instead of me ... that's bad, isn't it?"

"No, Harry. Sometimes it just means that your girlfriend wants to spend time with her other friends. Being a couple can be trying, sometimes people spend so much time together that they feel the need to do something for themselves. Do you understand?"

"Not really," Harry confessed. "Hermione and I do plenty of things alone."

"That's actually very good! You're both entitled to your own interests and hobbies," Williams said. "Sometimes it just feels good to do things alone or with friends who share the same interests. It has nothing to do with being a bad boyfriend or girlfriend, it has to do with broadening one's horizon, and work on their personal growth."

"So you're saying that I don't have to worry about it," Harry concluded dubiously.

Healer Williams nodded. "Exactly. You already know that she's a practical sort of girl. If there's something to talk about, she'll tell you and not make you guess. At least, as much as she can. Being a teenager is hard, and feeling insecure is normal. Just don't let it harm your friendships, Harry, and you should be just fine."

Harry decided to trust Brady's advice, but he still asked, "Can we talk about it again? When it, um, when it becomes ... necessary?"

"Of course, whenever you like."

Relieved, Harry then asked about Slytherin's journal. He'd thought that he had been prepared for effusions of amazement, but Brady surprised him with his soft wonder.

"It's ... beyond words, Harry," Healer Williams said quietly. "I don't understand it perfectly, but what I do understand is fascinating."

"How so? What did he write?" Harry asked, leaning forward.

"About potions, of course, but more importantly, about his daily life. This journal has notations at the sides and in the margins that paint such an amazing picture of his time ..." Williams shook his head. "Like, that he had to scrap an experiment because he rowed with a friend that day and couldn't work on it in the required state of mind and magic. And that the weather killed half of his potion ingredient garden one year. There was one whole entry about the price explosion on Chinese herbs and fungi due to a quarrel between England and China. Just every day stuff, but for the first time we get a direct look into how he was as a person, and how he lived in his time period."

Suddenly a small snake head appeared in the flames and hissed a greeting, which Harry returned quietly. "The favourite read us his old book, Harry. Old speaker was good friend to snakes. He mentioned Mother, and that he used her scales in potions. Brady says it didn't hurt, but it sounds painful."

"Shed scales are dead, darling. Your mother often donated scales as she grew," Williams explained affectionately. "During Slytherin's lifetime she appeared to have been a gentle soul, for a basilisk. Her connection with Slytherin must have been profound. Maybe she even was his familiar. He once mentioned sending her on patrol in Gryffindor's forest, to drive back a herd of approaching lethifolds that were killing the centaurs. Lethifolds are distant cousins to dementors, and quite similar in appearance."

"What else has he done?" Harry asked. "Hermione said that he must have been a good guy, to work together with three other good people."

"He certainly wasn't evil," Williams agreed. "One journal cannot paint a full picture of the man, but what I managed to read so far all points towards him having a complex personality, rather than an evil one. He was certainly driven, and hungry for recognition. But he was also proud of his work towards the betterment of his society, and wrote quite a few notes about healing potions in particular."

"What about this Luna Potion? Could you find out more about it?"

Healer Williams grinned. "I did, actually. I even managed to piece together all the ingredients, and most of Slytherin's thought processes towards brewing it. It was experimental, so maybe we'll find more about its development in other journals. What's interesting is that there are some ingredients in it that we're not using for the Wolfsbane Potion today ..."

As Brady went into detail and enthusiastically answered all of Harry's questions and even promised to send him the translated recipe for Hermione to look at, and just look at, Harry sank into a mellow, almost happy state of being. This was what he liked: discovery and a sense of adventure, as well as the feeling of doing something worthwile, if not good, with the things he was being given, no matter how accidental.

When we're ready for publication, I'll let the Hogwarts Herald run with it, Harry decided, thoughts slowly forming as he listened to Healer Williams' words. He was a Hogwarts founder, after all, and worked for everyone, not just himself. Maybe it's time to remind people that my new family wasn't always full of evil gits.

Yes, that seemed like a good plan, and like a goal worth pursuing.

---

End of part 13